To my friend, Gary Sandberg

Dear Gary,

It’s too bad you missed the All-Star Game Tuesday night. You would have loved it. The American League won, and Mariano Rivera got a standing ovation. It would have brought tears to your eyes. You know, despite being an obnoxious Yankees fan, I always appreciated the fact that you were, above all, a baseball fan. There are so few of us around these days. Everyone (and especially ESPN) is into football and basketball. You’d think with 30 teams playing 162 games each year that there would be plenty of baseball to talk about on sports shows, but baseball always seems to get short shrift. You always enjoyed watching a game no matter who was playing (even the Cubs — it was always fun to see them lose), and I’m the same way. I’ll miss meeting you at Whiteys to watch a game over pizza.

I’m glad you got to see the Yankees one more time — and even make the highlight reel! That was pretty cool seeing the home run ball bounce just a few seats to the right of you in Yankee stadium. Too bad it wasn’t the Yankees who hit the home run. Ha ha. Hey, you can’t win them all.

Remember last year when you found out I was going to the Heart of Illinois Fair and you asked me to pick up some salt water taffy for you from the guy who sets up near the front gate? I remembered that this year, and I picked some up for you again. I even drove by your place Thursday night to drop it off as a surprise, but all the lights were off. It looked like no one was home, so I drove on. I was hoping you were there because my wife and son were in the car, and I wanted them to see the work you had been doing on your apartment. My son especially would have loved the fire pole you were putting in.

I thought it was strange that you hadn’t responded to my texts and appeared not to be home, but you’ve taken unplanned trips before, so I wasn’t too worried. I figured you’d get back to me soon with tales of how your phone was lost or broken, or how you were out riding on Route 66 and didn’t hear the phone ring. You always had a great story to tell.

The story my wife thought was so funny was the one you told when we met you at the Garden Street Cafe for breakfast. You know, the one about mailing that package to Colt in Macau, and all the different ways you had to repack it and compress it until it met the size restrictions? And how exorbitant the cost was? You really had us in stitches by the end of that one; it was almost too ridiculous to believe.

The cars that you had were a real hoot, too. My favorites were the Austin-Healey Sprites you would drive in the summer when you weren’t on your motorcycle. They are impossibly small; I still can’t believe you could fit into them. And they were so low to the ground! I remember you saying you really noticed the city’s lack of infrastructure maintenance in that car because you could feel every bump and see every deteriorating curb. Your ability to get them running and keep them running was pretty ingenious. You were the last of the shade-tree mechanics.

Everyone knows you as the guy who (supposedly) always votes “no” on the City Council, and always stands up for the citizens when it seems like the rest of the council only stands up for the developers and the movers and shakers of the community. I always appreciated you holding everyone’s feet to the fire, even if you were the lone voice crying the wilderness. It was nice to know someone at City Hall was listening and fighting for the little guy. That’s what made you a hero to many. I always tried to encourage you to keep up the good fight, not that you needed the encouragement. I wonder who will stand up for the citizens of Peoria now.

I wonder a lot of things. Right now, I wonder why you insisted on working in that building without air conditioning in the kind of heat we’ve had — especially after you just had heart surgery not that long ago. You’re smarter than that. What was it? You just like living on the edge? Like riding your motorcycle without a helmet? Or walking to the Election Commission just seconds before they closed to turn in your nominating petitions?

We didn’t agree on everything. We rooted for different baseball teams. We differed on gun control. We were poles apart on religion. But we were friends. You were always very encouraging to me and very kind to my family. You were always genuine. No one ever had to wonder where they stood with you. You let them know in no uncertain terms. I always appreciated that kind of honesty, even though you probably took it a bit too far sometimes.

I guess there’s nothing left to say except farewell, and I’ll miss you. And the Yankees are in fourth place, but the Cardinals are in first.

Your friend,
C. J.

City apparently violates Open Meetings Act; “watchdog” media don’t question it

I was dumbfounded to read this in the “watchdog” press this morning (emphasis added):

City Manager Patrick Urich confirmed Friday afternoon that the City Council ordered funding for Officer Jeff Wilson’s legal fees withdrawn as part of the marathon executive session Tuesday night….

The city decided to continue funding Wilson’s legal fees in June when Nicholson filed for an extension of the no stalking order. That decision apparently was overturned by the council on Tuesday during the executive session.

What’s wrong with this picture? If it’s being accurately reported, it’s a blatant violation of the Open Meetings Act, which requires any final action by a public body to be made in open session. Executive session is for discussion purposes. If the City Council is taking a vote or making any kind of decision (i.e., final action) as a public body on anything — including matters of legal funding or non-funding — it must take such vote in open session at a properly-noticed meeting.

There are legal ramifications to this that can impact the City. According to the Open Meetings Act: “No final action may be taken at a closed meeting. Final action shall be preceded by a public recital of the nature of the matter being considered and other information that will inform the public of the business being conducted” (5 ILCS 120/2e). If the City were sued over this violation, the court could “declar[e] null and void any final action taken at a closed meeting in violation of this Act” (5 ILCS 120/3c). All of this adds up to more legal fees for the City, which means more taxpayer money being spent.

That the City would play fast and loose with the Open Meetings Act is, alas, no surprise. But I can’t believe this is being reported by the “watchdog” press so matter-of-factly, completely without question, as if this is standard operating procedure. The Open Meetings Act is often skirted via legal loopholes, and the Journal Star turns a blind eye to such shenanigans, even though such skirting is clearly not in the public’s interest. Yet here is not a legal loophole, but an obvious, blatant, and admitted violation.

Did this not raise any red flags at 1 News Plaza?строителство на къщи

40 years of Northwoods Mall

Artist's rendering of Northwoods Mall from 1971 promotional material
Artist’s rendering of Northwoods Mall from 1971 promotional material

It opened on August 16, 1973 — 40 years ago next month.

Northwoods Mall was Peoria’s first indoor shopping center, and it was a long time in the making. It was conceived by Carson, Pirie, Scott, & Co., longtime downtown department store anchor and successor to Block & Kuhl. In 1961, they acquired the land bounded by I-74, US-150 (War Memorial Dr.), and Sterling Avenue. Back then, this was the very northwest edge of town. There was no Westlake Shopping Center (that would come shortly after Northwoods was built), let alone Glen Hollow. The land and roads were rural.

Soon, Carson’s partnered with two other downtown stores to become equal partners in the venture: Montgomery Ward and JC Penney. In 1965, a coalition of downtown merchants and some merchants from Sheridan Village raised objections to the rezoning and filed suit against Carson’s. By 1970, the lawsuits were settled out of court, and in February 1970, the Peoria City Council gave final zoning approval.

Construction of the interior of the mall, 1973
Construction of the interior of the mall, 1973
Groundbreaking took place on October 26, 1971. It would have retail space of over 700,000 square feet in the middle of 56 acres of land and cost $25 million to build. That’s roughly equivalent to $144 million today. There was space for over 100 stores in addition to the three anchors. Almost 3,700 parking spaces were provided for shoppers. When it opened, it was the largest indoor mall between Chicago and St. Louis.

The mall was designed by Chicago architects Sidney H. Morris & Associates. Original tenants (in addition to the three anchors) included Seno & Sons Formal Wear, Campus Music Shop, Moore Jewelry, Stride Rite Shoes, Susies Casual, Baker Shoes, Jeans West, B. Dalton Book Sellers, Kay Howard Shop, Petrie Stores, Brooks, Byerly Music, Browns Spoting Goods, O’Connell’s Restaurants, Kinney Shoes, Thom McAn, Foxmoor Casuals, Konee’s Restaurant, Fannie May, Tie Hut, Fact Foto, Florsheim, Aladdin’s Castle amusement center, Musicland, Evenson’s Card Shop, Just Pants, Claire’s Boutique, Dutch Mill, Burton’s Shoes, Fab-N-Trim, Page Jewelry, Honey Bear Farm cheese and gourmet food store, Gallenkamp shoes, National Shirt Shops, Paul Harris Stores, Helzberg Jewelers, Orange Bowl fast food store, Regal, General Nutrition, Singer, and Savings Center Enterprises (development corporation owned by First Federal Savings & Loan Assoc.). [See complete list of tenants c. 1984 by clicking here]

The mall was managed by Harold Carlson Associates of Chicago from its opening in 1973 until November 1983. In May 1983, Carson’s sold its one-third share in the mall to Cleveland’s Jacobs-Visconsi-Jacobs mall management firm, and in October, Wards sold their share to Melvin Simon and Associates (now Simon Property Group) of Indianapolis. Simon was chosen to manage the mall in November 1983, and it now fully owns and manages Northwoods. The change in management wasn’t without its critics. Several store owners at the time told the newspaper that Simon was more interested in getting national chains than supporting local stores. Simon countered that they felt they were providing the right mix of chain and local shops to serve the needs of the community.

Original Northwoods logo
Original Northwoods logo
The original center court included a 40-foot-tall wood sculpture and a large, four-faced clock tower. There were also sunken seating areas throughout the mall where weary shoppers could rest. These have all been removed in subsequent renovations. The most recent renovation was in 2005. JC Penney is the only remaining original anchor. Carson’s closed in 1983 and was replaced with Famous Barr in October 1985. Famous Barr was later acquired by and changed over to a Macy’s store. Montgomery Ward went out of business in 1997; Sears moved from downtown to Northwoods in 1998.

Perhaps the most famous tenant of Northwoods Mall was the Skewer Inn. In October 1983, 28 people who dined at the Skewer Inn contracted botulism from tainted onions served sauteed on patty melt sandwiches. The sickened restaurant guests survived (well, one person died months later, possibly in part due to complications from the illness), but the restaurant didn’t. Although they tried to reopen, they never could rescue their reputation.

One restaurant that didn’t make lists of tenants was The Nordic House. It was located inside Carson’s on the lower level and had a Scandinavian theme. According to the newspaper, the restaurant “face[d] an outside garden area on two sides, with sculpture and plantings enclosed by a wall attractively blended into the architecture of the building. The restaurant will offer buffet and waitress service for lunch Monday thru Saturday, dinner Monday thru Friday, and will be open for buffet service only on Sunday.” It received good reviews for food and service in later newspaper accounts.

It didn’t take long for Northwoods’ impact to be felt downtown. Just a year after it opened, a study was released that showed sales were down in the old central business district. Downtown retailers tried to stay positive, but within a decade, most of them had closed their downtown stores and either moved to the suburbs (“if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em”) or disappeared for good. Today, the central business district is predominantly parking, offices, and civic buildings.

I called Northwoods to see if they have any plans for a fortieth anniversary celebration. They said their plans were not finalized and they were not ready to announce anything at this time, but they’d let me know. If I find out anything, I’ll post the update here.

Share your memories of Northwoods in the comments section below.

1978 postcard advertising Northwoods Mall
1978 postcard advertising Northwoods Mall